


A Friend Like Me

by EmeraldRoseQuartz



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Dark Character, Disney, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 11:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18916522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldRoseQuartz/pseuds/EmeraldRoseQuartz
Summary: Agrabah isn't all palaces and genies. Where Aladdin grew up, life is hard. And he has to stay one jump ahead





	A Friend Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Just randomly wrote this one shot, thought I'd throw it up here and see how you like it. :) Enjoy!

It was a hard, growing up in the city of Agrabah. Aladdin sat on the roof of a taller building, looking down on the bazaar below, and took a sloppy bite out of a recently stolen apple. The sun blinded him, reflecting relentlessly off the bright buildings, but he was in the right position and this was where he needed to be. He just had to wait for his opportunity. He squinted and put his hand over his eyes, watching the baker’s wooden shop stand like a tiger in the grass. Just needed to be patient, otherwise this would all be for nothing...he took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of his city: filth, body odor, animals...a disgusting place. Disease, famine, and suffering were a constant fog over the beleaguered people who walked its packed-earth streets. Unbearably hot days, freezing cold nights, and food always in short supply - most days were a struggle to survive. Large mansions guarded by high walls and large men dotted the primarily destitute population, oases of wealthy aristocrats in a dessert of poverty. Most citizens lived in filthy hovels with dirt floors, and slept on straw mats with only the thinnest of blankets to shield them from the biting cold at night. Children were lucky to live past the age of 10.

 

Agrabah was a town utterly split between the wealthy and the poor, and the bazaar was the perfect place to see this divide in effect. Those with even a small amount of wealth treated others who they considered “lower” with unbridled cruelty. Shop owners routinely accused innocent bystanders of stealing, just to be entertained by the horrendous retribution administered by the royal guards - gigantic men, chosen from a young age and trained like dogs, beaten and forced to fight and grow stronger until all humanity left them. They never missed an opportunity to release their violent tendencies on the citizens, and their lust for blood often led to loss of life. But only if you didn’t outrun them.

 

Below him, along the side of the streets, prostitutes danced, wearing nothing but sheer, light fabric that fluttered with their movement and left nothing to the imagination. They called to the merchants and aristocrats like the shopkeepers.

 

“Hey, big guy! Give me five minutes to persuade you I’m worth an hour…” A lithe young woman yelled to a passing entourage. She gazed up at the young noble sitting atop the covered sedan. The eight men carrying it turned to look at her and sneered.

 

“Come on, baby,” she purred, “Let me show you how we do it in Agrabah.” She followed the sedan down the street, seductively gyrating her body. The man atop paid her no mind.

 

Aladdin took another large bite of the apple and watched as the group got closer to the stand, then turned to look down the street in the opposite direction. Just as he’d hoped, he saw the baker’s wife storming toward the stand from their home.

 

Aladdin had spoken with one of her tenement neighbors earlier and told her the baker had been visiting prostitutes. He had lied, of course, but he knew it would be just a matter of time before the baker’s wife would hear the rumor and come fuming toward the bazaar. That screaming match in and of itself would have been enough of a distraction for Aladdin to swipe at least one loaf of bread, but having a prostitute dancing around the stand and the gaggle of noble onlookers was just good luck. Aladdin’s heart began to race - this would be his most epic heist yet.

 

As the wife approached the baker’s stand, the prostitute smiled devilishly at the baker. She danced behind the display and began rubbing her ample posterior against his thigh.

 

“Hey, I remember you. You liked it, didn’t you? Hey, this guy can tell you how good it was!”

 

Aladdin slid quickly down the ladder from the roof and ducked behind some barrels near the stand, holding his mouth closed to keep from laughing hysterically at was was about to happen. As if it was choreographed, the baker’s wife rounded the corner just as the prostitute wrapped her leg around the baker’s waist and ground her hips against him.

 

Time gloriously slowed down.

 

The way the baker’s wife’s eyes went wide with rage as she released a primal scream that would have scared off a tiger.

 

The look on the baker’s face as he turned and saw her.

 

Seeing every single head in the bazaar turn in the same direction at once - that was his cue.

 

Aladdin shot quickly from his hiding place and deftly grabbed a loaf of bread from the stand before diving into the crowd of halted pedestrians. He bolted through the stunned onlookers toward an alleyway.  He had almost made it all the way when he heard someone in the crowd yell, “Hey, that kid stole a golden bracelet from my stand!”

 

Aladdin spun around to see one of the shopkeepers pointing at him. Aladdin rolled his eyes and sighed. Something like this always happened.  He kept running until he reached the end of the alley, then jumped up onto a wall, almost dropping the bread in the process. The guards were on him like a pack of hounds. He barely managed to stay one jump ahead…

 

_____

 

Life was hopeful when Aladdin was very young. He and his siblings lived happily with his parents, who were good people. They were kind to others, compassionate and loving. Growing up, Aladdin watched his mother wrangle his older brothers and sisters into behaving, doling out affection and discipline with a tenderness that was rare in this abrasive place. In their small, dirty flat, they had a haven - it wasn’t comfortable, but it was home.

 

None of them went to school; it was a luxury far too expensive for their household. It didn’t matter, though; they knew no one who had any education whatsoever. Aladdin spent his early days wandering the streets looking for items to sell or eat, memorizing every path, practicing every turn, and finding every hiding place. At night, his family would eat whatever meager food was available, and talk about what they would do if they were rich.

 

In the tannery, where his father worked, he was paid so little and worked so hard, and would come home smelling so bad that Aladdin actually did vomit, on some days. It was filthy and dangerous, but it was the only place his father could find work - he was more fortunate than many in this city. His father was an optimistic man, certain that someday they would have a more stable and comfortable life; but until then, he just had to keep working and wait for his opportunity. They were destitute, but they loved each other and managed to make their limited supplies stretch enough to keep everyone alive.

 

Then one day, while handling a particularly heavy piece of leather, Aladdin’s father fell into a tanning vat. The rancid, disgusting liquid overtook him, but he managed to get out a scream for help as he gagged and coughed on the nauseating brine. He struggled to climb the steep earthen walls and get out of the deep well, but try as he might, eventually his strength gave out. He died in the bottom of an ungodly hellhole and left his family penniless. Without income, their paltry resources vanished. Aladdin’s mother died shortly afterward, either from starvation or a broken heart, he never knew for sure. He was 11 at the time, so he couldn’t really understand the tragedy that was unraveling around him.

 

He and his siblings tried to survive together, and for a while they bonded in grief and fear. But as their orphan life became the new normal, animosity grew. One-by-one, his brothers and sisters ran off in the night, abandoning the only family they had left. After a few months, Aladdin found himself alone.

 

Life on the streets of Agrabah was hell. He starved and scraped, and when he did get some kind of food, more often than not he lost it to older, bigger street children, or to rats. He ate everything as quickly as he could, and learned to be fast and sneaky.  He could divert a shopkeeper’s attention with a well-aimed rock, then run in from the opposite direction and grab an apple or some bread before he was noticed.

 

He also learned to lie. When he would see another homeless child sitting next to a stall, he would alert the merchants and say he saw another street urchin trying to pilfer a meal. Then he would gather as much food as he could while they were preoccupied watching the guards chase the unfortunate child (and Allah help the kid if he got caught). Some days, when he was lucky, the merchant would stupidly give him some some small reward for alerting them, completely unaware that he had spent the whole time stuffing food into the hidden pockets in his pants...

 

For seven years, Aladdin lived like this, each day a trial of his wit and strength, each day forcing him to choose his own life over the lives of others, knowing he would not survive if he tried to help.  He did have one friend, though. A monkey from a traveling gypsy band named Abu that he had “convinced” to follow him. He couldn’t just leave a monkey that was dressed exactly the same as him. It had taken a precious handful of breadcrumbs to lead him away, but it was worth it: the monkey was the perfect partner in crime.

 

\-----

 

Aladdin almost lost his footing as he raced away from the guards, brandishing their swords and pursuing him through homes, around the bazaar, and finally over hot coals.  He was able to duck behind a short wall with his loaf of bread as they ran by, and was about to enjoy his meal when he noticed two small children watching him. He froze. One loud yell, and the guards would be back on him like flies on a carcass.

 

They locked eyes. Aladdin held the bread close to his chest, panting, sweating, trying not to let his heavy breathing alert his pursuers. The smaller child, a boy, put his hand out palm up. Aladdin scowled, but when the older girl began to take a deep breath, he ripped the loaf of bread in half and handed the two pieces to them.

 

The boy gave him a solemn nod, and the children took their bread and walked away. Aladdin exhaled, hearing the shouts of the guards carry further down the street. His relief was shortlived - looked like another day without bread. Abu glared at him, as if to say,  _ I can’t believe you lost the food. _

 

“Don’t blame this on me, fleabag,” Aladdin said with a huff. “I didn’t see  _ you _ grab anything.”

 

Without breaking eye contact, Abu reached into the pocket of his vest...and pulled out the golden bracelet.


End file.
